The Keeper
by outsetislander
Summary: Keepers aren’t satyrs, but other demigods sworn to keep the most powerful in ignorance. Their vow extends to killing their assignments should they ever learn the truth. This task is much harder, however, when you accidently fall in love with them. AU.
1. Pen Caps and Killer Hats

**Hello fellow Percy Fans! **

**My name is outsetislander but I go by Tetra (neither is my real name). I've never written a PJO fic before but I did try to write some twilight ones. Unfortunately they remain unfinished due to my ADD (not ADHD lol) and loss of interest in that series. Hopefully someday I will regain enough inspiration to finish those so I won't feel awful about them anymore. **

**But anyway, I'm sure you don't care. **

**But you may care about the fact that I have never been so obsessed with a book series as I am with Percy Jackson (not even harry potter). This is why I'm writing this, and why I would love for you to read it.**

**Before we start though, a few things:**

**1) This is AU aka Alternate Universe. Meaning things WILL be different from how they were in the book.**

**2) Percy, Annabeth, Grover and most of the rest are juniors at Goode high school. Why? Because I didn't like my sophomore year. Exceptions are Luke and Thalia who are seniors, and Nico who is a freshman. **

**3) Grover and Juniper are humans. Not satyrs, or nymphs, or demigods. Sorry if that makes you sad, but it works out better this way.**

**4) I am an 18 yr old girl. Not a 15 or 16 yr old boy named Percy. So I apoligize in advance if I accidently sound like myself at points. If it bothers you, kindly point it out and I'll either change it or just try harder next time. **

**-Enjoy**

* * *

She sat there in silence, a slight furrow in her brow and lips pursed in deep contemplation. Golden curls fell in her eyes from her messy bun. She tapped her freshly sharpened pencil—once, twice—against her architecture textbook. Finally conceding to her artistic block, she sighed heavily and stubbornly crumpled her latest sketch. She tossed it in the nearest recycling bin. She had perfect aim.

I noticed her friend—her only friend—frantically skimming her pre-calculus notes. The girl I'd been watching spoke to her calmly, obviously offering help though I couldn't make out the exact words. Within a few minutes, her friend had clearly calmed down and nodded in comprehension. I knew she would. After all, she had Annabeth Chase teaching her.

"She's a babe isn't she?" I'd completely forgotten about Grover sitting next to me. He plucked an apple core from my lunch tray and began munching away. Nasty, right? I know. But hey, it might help him win some clichéd reality TV show one day. Or at the very least he won't ever starve to death.

"Who?" I said defensively. I knew there was no need for it. Grover was my best friend and he'd lay off I told him to. I just hated talking about my feelings. Guys don't do feelings.

"Juniper," he replied impatiently, as if Juniper could be the only correct answer to any question ever. Come to think of it, with Grover it probably was.

"Oh. Yeah sure, man." I replied halfheartedly. I found myself glancing back to Juniper and Annabeth's table. They were both packing up for their next class.

"You know," Grover said pointing a finger at me. I noticed the apple stem pinched between his thumb and middle finger. I wondered if he'd eat it too, or if his dignity decided to show up after he'd eaten the seeds. "I'm glad California's here this semester. Juniper needed a good friend."

California was what everyone called Annabeth. She'd just kinda showed up after winter break for second semester. For good-looking fresh meat from California, she'd managed to make as little a splash as possible. After turning down a bunch of guys with less-than-innocent intentions, and mouthing off Clarisse and her cronies who'd tried to trick her into "initiation", she'd managed to keep a low profile. She blocked everyone out besides Juniper and no one else bothered to fight their way in. She was so below the radar that people often forgot her name, hence the nickname "California".

"_You_ could be Juniper's friend, you know," I said. Grover looked at me as if I had just asked him to join me on a perilous quest to Underworld.

"_Me?_" He gawked. No, the other Grover…

"Sure, why not?"

Grover hunched his shoulders a bit. "She's way out of my league," He said in a small voice.

I felt for the guy, but I knew he was just being shy. Juniper wasn't bad looking, but I wouldn't consider her an exceptional beauty either. Plus, she didn't seem like the kind of person to just cast a guy aside because he wasn't male model of the year. She looked like the kind of girl who cared about the inside, and Grover had a heart of gold.

"I'm not telling you to ask her out. Just be her friend. God knows she needs friends." I watched as the girls left. I wondered if Annabeth was actually a good friend or if Juniper simply had no other choice. "Just talk to her," I added as if it were that simple. In a way it was.

"I could do that," he agreed. I could tell he didn't mean it.

"Great. You could catch her before her next class."

"No, I couldn't."

Not so great…

_Ringgg! _The bell rang.

Grover hastily left before I could yell at him. I took my good old time packing up and began to slowly make my way to anatomy. As I passed the recycling bin I stopped on a dime.

I know what you're thinking. But I promise you, I am _not_ a creepy stalker. I have ADHD, and I tend to do stupid impulsive things. I also can't help but hyper-focus on things that interest me. And at this particular moment, Annabeth Chase…interested me.

In a moment's indecision, I quickly scanned the nearly empty cafeteria. No one was watching. Before I could change my mind, I snatched Annabeth's crumpled sketch from the recycling bin and stuffed it into my pocket.

* * *

"You look like a wet dog," Rachel flung my towel at me with a smirk. She was leaning over the railing of the balcony with her arms crossed. At swim meets, the bleachers behind her were usually bursting with spectators. Today was only practice though, and Rachel had sat there by herself sketching the team in action.

I climbed on top of the poolside bench and pulled myself up with the lower balcony railing. It was probably a dangerous thing to do, but the coach was already long gone and I've always been a bit of a rebel anyway. But hey, I haven't been expelled from a school in almost three years.

"Wet dog, huh?" I leaned over the railing and shook my head back and forth as quickly as possible, showering her with water droplets from my hair. Good thing I forgot my swim cap.

Rachel giggled and shielded herself with her arms. I was glad that Rachel wasn't like most girls. She didn't yell at me for getting her wet. She didn't even smack me upside the head like Thalia or Zoë would.

"You do that again, and you're walking home the rest of the year," Rachel said with a near-straight face. I knew she was joking, but it was still a scary thought. My step-dad Paul had banned me from driving his Prius and Rachel's Mercedes had heated seats and a killer stereo. Oh, why was I banned? I got in a fender bender because I was distracted by two other cars in a fender bender.

"But I'll be wet! I'll get frost-bite and die. Do you really want that on your conscience?" Was my ingenious reply.

"I have no conscience."

"Yes you—" I started to say, but dropped it immediately. I turned around. Out of nowhere, an overwhelming sense of paranoia yanked at my gut. It was like I was being watched but worse. Like whoever, or whatever, was watching me wasn't just there to _watch_, but waiting for the right moment to _strike_.

"Are you okay?" Rachel's voice came distantly. My body was still on red alert. But we couldn't actually be in danger, right? I mean we were _in school_. This wasn't some back alley where gangs gutted private school kids like us for initiation…

"I'll meet you at the front," I said finally.

"What?" Rachel blurted like I had just told her my favorite animal was a tangerine.

"Just go," I gritted through my teeth.

"Whoa…Okay, weirdo," She joked before she left.

My eyes darted around the pool deck. I strained my ears to listen.

Nothing.

In a last desperate attempt to prove myself sane, I shot out a hand and groped the open air in front of me.

Empty.

Giving in, I headed to the locker room.

I sighed. This day had been _way_ too long.

* * *

The next morning I stumbled into homeroom about two seconds before the bell rang. Mrs. Dodds was so pleased with my not-tardiness that she barked at me to tuck my shirt in and sit down.

I grabbed a seat in the back as announcements came on. Homeroom was pretty much the usual—Silena blowing at her freshly manicured nails, Clarisse acting out her latest rumble for her disciples, Grover chewing his pen cap and accidentally choking on it.

While Beckendorf performed the Heimlich on Grover, I realized something out of the usual. Annabeth, the most irritatingly punctual person on the planet, was nowhere to be found. Even more confusing—I actually cared.

Travis Stoll was sitting to my left. He didn't seem too concerned with the choking fiasco either, so I asked him if he knew where Annabeth was.

Travis looked up from his shiny new blackberry—which I'm pretty sure he didn't pay for, if you catch my drift— and raised an eyebrow. "Dude, she's sitting right next to you."

I turned to my right and sure enough, there she was. She sat in the seat to my immediate right—the seat that was empty about two seconds before— casually reading a book with her legs crossed towards me. It was like she'd been there the whole time. Maybe she had. Maybe my ADHD brain was playing tricks on me.

Something was off though. Looking closely I noticed the slight heaving of her chest, the tinge of flush in her cheeks. It wasn't the I-just-rushed-in-with-a-heavy-backpack kind of look. It was more like she'd been holding her breath, like she was hoping no one would notice her.

Plus, she hadn't turned a page in her book since I started watching her.

"What are you looking at?" She said, not looking up from her book. It was meant to be harsh, but I sensed insecurity lying beneath it. Insecurity that kept me from turning around and minding my own business.

"Have you been here this entire time?" I asked, which sounded a lot stupider in real life than in my brain.

Her book snapped shut and she turned to face me. She looked me up and down with a disapproving glare as if to say, _So that's it? I was expecting more. _Finally, her gray eyes rested on mine and with a cock in her brow she said, "What's that supposed to mean?" like I was some kind of moron.

Usually I was good with comebacks, but for some reason I couldn't come up with one. Maybe because her cool tone didn't enrage me the way it would coming from someone else's mouth. Or maybe because I knew she was too clever for me.

"Nothing. I just…I didn't see you there." I said.

Or maybe I just wanted her to like me.

Her eyes softened just a bit. She looked down at her desk and sighed. "Sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean it like that."

I shrugged. "No problem."

She didn't say anything else, but she didn't open her book again either. I figured she was leaving it to me to start a conversation or not. I glanced at the cover of her book. It took my dyslexic eyes a moment to read the title: _The Odyssey. _So much for a point of common interest.

I was about to turn around and give up when I noticed a baseball cap half-stuffed into her backpack. I pulled it out and looked at the symbol.

"You're a Yankees fan?" I said incredulously.

It seemed like idea surprised her about as much as it did me. Her gray eyes widened and color pooled to her cheeks. "Uh, yeah sure. I mean, who isn't right?"

I thought about it for a second. "I guess so."

She started at the hat in my hand like it was a time bomb.

"What about the teams from California? You still root for one of them?"

Annabeth continued to stare at the hat.

"I mean you had to like one of them right? There's the Dodgers, the Angels, the—"

"Percy, I need my hat back," Annabeth said firmly, almost angrily.

Obviously she didn't want to talk anymore. Still, I didn't want to leave my first almost-conversation with Annabeth on a bad note. It was strange, but I didn't want her to hate me. For the first time in my life, I actually wanted to be friends with someone who didn't want to be friends back. But how could I maintain a friendly bond with her if I just gave her hat back without another word? Then I got an idea.

"That's cool. You can have it back." I smiled. "But first, let's see how it looks…"

I reached to place the hat on her head.

**

* * *

**

A/N

**And so that's chapter one... Sorry if it felt a bit choppy from the 3 different scenes. I'm no good at background. **

**Reviews are really appreciated. It's good to know that someone wants you to keep writing. Even just 1 or 2 people. I love to hear positive feedback, suggestions for future chapters, questions, even constructive criticism. I can't make a a reader happy if he/she doesn't tell me what I'm doing wrong. **

**Hope you liked it,**

**-Tetra **


	2. Fun with Body Parts

**A/N: I would like to thank giggling-ninja, Biggest Percy jackson fan eva, and Shorty and KG Inc. for this chapter. I know already PM'd you guys, but really if no one reviewed I wouldn't have the guts to continue. **

**Disclaimer- This is fanfiction so I don't know why I bother.**

**-Enjoy**

* * *

"_Percy, I need my hat back," Annabeth said firmly, almost angrily._

_Obviously she didn't want to talk anymore. Still, I didn't want to leave my first almost-conversation with Annabeth on a bad note. It was strange, but I didn't want her to hate me. For the first time in my life, I actually wanted to be friends with someone who didn't want to be friends back. But how could I maintain a friendly bond with her if I just gave her hat back without another word? Then I got an idea._

"_That's cool. You can have it back." I smiled. "But first, let's see how it looks…"_

_I reached to place the hat on her head._

* * *

So okay, maybe I should've gotten the hint at "Percy, I need my hat back". Still, seizing my wrist in a death grip and twisting my arm back in a disarming maneuver was a bit much. What ever happened to good old _It's not you—it's me?_

I dropped the cap.

Annabeth snatched up the hat from the floor before I could blink. Without another word, she turned to face the front. For the remainder of homeroom she stared at the empty blackboard.

I stared at her.

* * *

I hated Anatomy.

It wasn't exciting enough for Dr. Boring to just pass out worksheets with diagrams on them. He had to pass out dead rats dripping in formaldehyde for us to slice up and inspect. Now that's what I call exciting.

I cringed as I stared down at the unfortunate pickled creature in my dissecting tray. His arms and legs were pinned down and his tail curled grotesquely. I squeezed my scalpel tight in my fist and gulped. I tried to ignore the smell.

"Just get on with it!" Grover blurted out, probably louder than he meant to. His eyes were shut tight and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"I am!" I said. Grover was my best friend, but I definitely did not appreciate having him as a lab partner. His weak stomach and love of the wild—even rats—left it to me to do all the work. Plus, he'd already passed out twice last semester.

I made an initial incision below the rat's chin. After a couple cuts, I managed to pry the surprisingly durable skin open. The inside was just lovely.

Grover held his breath and chanced a peak. I could tell he wasn't holding up too well.

"Hey man, you don't need to—"

"Hey nature boy what's the matter?" Clarisse teased from the table in front of us. "Sick to your stomach?" She picked up a rat stomach from her tray with the intestines still attached. She jiggled it in front of Grover's face.

I wanted to wring her throat. I probably would have too, if Grover hadn't passed out on the spot. I caught him, forgetting that I was still sporting wet plastic dissecting gloves. I'd leave that detail out when he woke up later.

"Dr. Boring!" Katie Gardner called.

I noticed the whole class had abandoned their rats to stare. Come on, people. This isn't anything new.

"Oh, Grover," Dr. Boring mumbled as he rushed over. "I'll take him to the nurse. Continue your work. I'll be back soon as possible."

Dr. Boring heaved Grover to his non-responding feet, which made them both almost topple over. He asked for some help, and Michael Yew rushed over to lend a hand. Together they lugged him away.

I turned to glare at Clarisse. She snickered back.

"You think you're really funny don't you?" I said. I felt the blood rushing to my face and muscles.

"So what if I do, punk?" she smirked. "You gonna write me an angry letter? 'Dear Clarisse, please leave my boyfriend alone.'" Her equally ugly lab partner started cracking up.

I was so angry I couldn't see straight. Clarisse had a knack for that. I was vaguely aware of the class still gaping at us.

"You know maybe I will," I said slowly, trying to regain my composure. "Dear Clarisse, I don't usually hit girls, but you're so big and ugly I might punch your lights out anyway. Best Wishes, Percy."

I distantly heard some gasps and a couple "oooo's". I looked over for a second and, by chance, caught Annabeth's gaze. She was staring at me seriously and intently, like she thought this was a bad idea, but she was leaving it up to me. I figured she wouldn't mind watching me get beat to a pulp. I did, after all, try to be nice to her and touch her stupid hat. Who wouldn't be offended by that?

I looked back at Clarisse, staring her straight in the eyes. She was grinning wickedly, not appearing the least bit offended by my comment. She was the cat and I was the mouse caught in her trap. I'd never show it, but I was actually scared.

She got right in my face. I knew she was going to punch me, so I went on defense. She backed me right up to the sinks. I gripped the counter so hard my knuckles cracked.

"Don't worry, punk. This'll just hurt a b—"

But Clarisse never got to tell me how much it would hurt. Through some bizarre turn of events, all four sinks behind me exploded, spewing water in heavy jets straight at Clarisse. The force was so great that she stumbled backwards into a lab table. She screamed and slipped, falling right on her butt. But even that wasn't enough to stop Clarisse. She got right up and came at me again, forcing her way through the water jets.

"Why, you little—" She muttered.

I panicked. Somehow—I don't even know where it came from—I jumped straight up over her head and landed on my feet behind her. Before either of us had time to wonder how any of this was even possible, she crashed into the counter with an "oof!" then quickly retaliated.

Clarisse turned and lunged at me again. This time I wasn't scared. I held my ground and extended my arms. I locked eyes with the enemy.

I was ready to take her, but I didn't have to. Before she even got close a massive tug wrenched at my gut. The automatic sprinkler system turned on. And this wasn't just a light sprinkle— it was a full blown hurricane. There was so much water I couldn't see more than three feet in front of me.

I heard screams, people rushing for the door. It wasn't just our room either. Screams came from every room in the building.

I stood where I was, petrified with awe. A few minutes later the water shut off. I stared straight ahead and felt my shirt sleeve. It was dry.

* * *

Classes were cancelled for the afternoon. After all, a swimming pool that used to be your algebra classroom isn't exactly a choice learning environment.

I slumped through the parking lot to Rachel's Mercedes. I felt strange. Maybe because I was half-expecting everyone to stare at me like I _was_ strange. But no one did.

I spotted Clarisse who was still soaking wet. She was talking to her boyfriend Chris Rodriguez who, like everybody else, was also soaking wet. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but I strode right up to the couple.

"Hey, Clarisse," I said when I reached them. "Chris."

Clarisse glared at me, but not more than usual, which was a surprise. Chris nodded at me in acknowledgment.

"What do _you _want?" Clarisse said, scrunching her bushy eyebrows.

"I uh—I wanted to say…I'm sorry?" It was more of a question than an apology. Everyone was acting so normally, I almost wanted confirmation that everything that just happened…well _happened_.

"About what, loser?" she scowled.

My mouth dropped open. Was she too proud to admit defeat? But there were more than twenty other students who'd seen the whole thing. How could she pretend that it never happened?

"Th—the water!" I blurted waving my hands. I felt like a freshman girl, trying to convince her skeptical friends that she'd kissed the school's star quarterback.

"You pulled the fire alarm?!" she said with disgust.

I was about to yell at her again, call her a coward. Then I noticed her expression. Clarisse looked genuinely confused, maybe even concerned—well maybe not.

I heard a car horn beep twice.

"Percy!" Rachel drove up next to us in her Mercedes. Some 90's rap blared out the window. "Get in or I'm leaving you," she beamed. Then she noticed my company and raised an eyebrow in question as if to say, _Why are you talking to_ them_?_

"I'm coming," I said.

Without another word to Clarisse or Chris I got in the car. I gave them a half-hearted wave, then shut the door and pressed the button so the windows rolled up.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but I didn't let her.

"You mind if I change this?" I pointed at the stereo. She shook her head.

I scrolled through the CD to find something, but Rachel liked really weird, random music. Eventually I settled on some _White Stripes_ song that I forgot the name of.

After listening a few seconds, Rachel said, "Kick-ass day, huh?"

"Yeah," I said feigning enthusiasm. I really should've been happier, getting out of school and all, but I just felt like I was driving away from the answers.

We were silent for a few minutes after that. Rachel kept looking back and forth between me and the road. At one point she slammed on the brakes to avoid running over a pretty dim-witted squirrel who had decided New York City would be a great place to live.

"Wanna grab some lunch?" Rachel asked hopefully.

I looked over at her and felt a little guilty. Rachel didn't hide her feelings for me, and the jerk part of me didn't want her to. I knew it was wrong to keep her hopes up, but I also knew that if she ever dated someone else I'd be jealous. Maybe because I knew she'd be the perfect girlfriend—understanding, laidback, pretty—but we just didn't have the chemistry, and I was too stubborn to admit it.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said. "We are wet afterall." Before I left the building I splashed some water on myself to avoid drawing attention. It really came in handy now as a good excuse.

"Alright," she replied agreeably with a tinge of disappointment.

I was such a jerk.

* * *

That night, I had a dream.

I was standing in a narrow, dimly lit hallway with a wooden floor. Behind me stood a mahogany door, open just a crack so that the light inside spilled out. There were voices just behind it. Instead of running, I strained my ears to listen.

"Tell me what you've found, child." The voice was obliviously male. It was gentle but serious.

"He is one of us, that much I'm sure of," said another voice. This one was female and youthful. It was also painfully familiar, but I couldn't figure out whom it belonged to.

"Any suspicions or leads regarding his parentage?" the first voice spoke again.

"Unfortunately, yes. I don't want to jump to conclusions though." I wondered who these people were, and how finding someone's parents could be a bad thing. Maybe the poor guy's parents were dead, in jail, or something else of that nature.

"I see. That is probably wise," said the first voice. "It is always possible that he is not what he seems."

There was a pause and I held my breath. I prayed they wouldn't open the door and catch me eavesdropping.

"And if he is?" the second voice said at last.

"You are clever girl. I have faith in you," the first voice said with confidence. "And remember, if the worst happens you need not do it yourself. Another can take your place if necessary."

There was another pause—this one longer than the first. I was almost sure I'd be found out.

"No," the second voice said. "I have been chosen for this task for a reason—I always finish what I've started."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry the hat thing ended up pretty anti-climacticly(is that a word?). Also, Sorry if your waiting for some Percabeth. I promise there will be tons of mushy, fluffy, heart-wrenching stuff soon. It would just be unrealistic, poor writing if I put it in too fast. But next chapter there will be a lot more interaction between them.**

**Review please! I take unsigned reviews too if you don't have an account or you want to do it anonymously. Just FYI the more positive response I get, the more likely I am to continue and update faster. Sorry I'm like that but I have anxiety and the last thing I want to do is post junk that people don't want to read and make a fool of myself. Perfectionism is my fatal flaw. **

**-Tetra**


	3. I Watch and Live Women's Television

**A/N: So I have to admit, I actually hate this chapter. It's not bad, but it does have some mature themes which I don't care for. I put in some comic relief, but remember this fic is rated T and should be treated as such. There's nothing graphic, but that doesn't mean it's okay for younger readers. **

**Also, I apoligize if Thalia seems slightly ooc. It took me hours of writing and re-writing to realize that Thalia is actually a relatively flat character in the series. This chapter requires her to show some real emotion, so I kinda had to guess at her character in such a situation. And ****FYI- this isn't a short chapter. It might seem that way though b/c it's just 1 scene instead of the usual 3.**

**Happy Reading!**

**Disclaimer-Don't own POJ, just this fic, which is actually pretty sad.**

* * *

There was only one logical explanation: my life was a cosmic joke.

I had spent the rest of my week trying to figure out what had happened in anatomy. Of course no one had any idea what I was talking about. When I pestered them about the fight—the exploding sinks, the water jets, the fact that I could _jump_ over Clarisse's _head_—they all just looked at me funny. Most of them asked me if I was feeling alright. One kid asked me why I would ever want to play leapfrog with Clarisse.

It was now Saturday night, and I had finally given up. Now I'd like to tell you that I was doing something pretty awesome—that I was going to some insane party, or taking a girl out on a date. The truth? I was sprawled out on the couch watching bad re-runs, moaning and griping to myself about how much my life sucks. We were also out the basic necessities such as Cheetos and Coke, which only increased the severity of the situation.

I was officially out of channel changing devices— aka couch cushions and other chuck-able items— and the TV was stuck on Lifetime. I was thinking up ways to retrieve the remote on the far table without moving when the doorbell rang.

_Ringgg!_

"Percy!?" my mom called from the shower. "Can you get that, please?"

_Ringgg!_

"Percy!?"

"I got it," I called back. I slid off the couch and got to my feet. I stumbled a bit from sitting down so long. When I made it to door I looked through the peephole. I wasn't surprised to see a blue eye attempting to peer in through the opposite side. I opened the door.

"I swear to God, if you're drunk—"

"Psssh…I wish," Thalia said pushing by me without invitation. She plopped right down on my couch, stretching out her legs and taking up as much room as possible. She acted like she owned the place, giving off an air of condescending indifference like she was too cool to be hanging out with a loser like me. But I knew better.

"Got a hot date tonight, Peter Parker?" she nodded down at my Spiderman pajama bottoms. She rested her hands behind her head, and leaned back with a smirk.

"Thalia what are doing here?" I asked, annoyed. It was more of an accusation than an actual question. The attitude was always a sure sign that Thalia's feelings had been hurt. When she came barging into my house and insulting me, I knew it was actually Thalia talk for _Someone hurt me, but I refuse to admit it. Revenge is not an option. I need a friend. _I knew I should probably cool it, but Thalia was an overachiever when it came to pissing me off. I guess everyone has their goals.

"What? A girl can't—" Thalia squinted at the TV. She scrunched her delicate nose in disgust. "Are you watching _Lifetime_?"

"Thalia," I shut my eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. "What did he do to you?"

When I opened my eyes, I knew I was right. Thalia rolled her eyes, but refused to meet my gaze. She began cracking her knuckles and fidgeting with her ring.

I sighed heavily. My muscles no longer coiled with tension. I moved over the couch and sat next to her, giving her no choice but to scoot over and make room. I waited in silence until she was ready to speak.

"Percy," Thalia said in a small voice, no louder than a whisper. "Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you tried…," she trailed off. Thalia bit her lip. A few tears glistened in the corners of her blue eyes. She looked up, blinking rapidly, refusing to let them fall.

I stared at her, mildly confused from shock. I had seen a lot of girls cry before, but Thalia wasn't one of them. She was probably the toughest person I knew, and I looked up to her in many ways. Now, seeing the eighteen-year-old reduced to an almost childlike state, I couldn't help but feeling like there wasn't much hope for the rest of us.

I remembered the story of her past that she had entrusted in me bit by bit through the years. Like me, she had never known her father, but wasn't fortune enough to be blessed with a loving mother. After years of neglect from a mother who never wanted her, she ran away. She spent over a month on the streets before she was found and informed that her mother had died in a car crash.

She now lived with her clueless uncle, who couldn't care less about her favorite color (silver) or pastime (pissing people off by eating vanilla Oreos and chocolate milk). She hung out with whomever she felt like, came home drunk at three in the morning on school nights, and snuck out like it was her job. She tried to convince me that she was a bad kid, but I knew she just wanted attention. She had been ignored for too long and needed someone to care.

"It's Luke again, right?" I said gently, after a few minutes of silence.

Thalia nodded.

"Did you guys fight or something?" I asked.

"It's over," Thalia said dully.

"Oh," I said feeling guilty, though I had nothing to do with it. I was convinced that Thalia had to have been some kind of serial killer or fluffy bunny strangler in a previous life. Life was worse than unfair to her—it was downright cruel. She was unloved for so many years, and now her first real love was taken away from her.

"I knew it was coming," she said lifelessly. "He said I deserved better—that he was beyond fixing."

"Do you believe him?" I asked.

It really was the strangest thing. Up until about two months ago, you'd never think that Luke Castellan was "beyond fixing". In fact, you wouldn't even think he needed fixing. He was so cool, nice, and handsome that practically any girl would fall for him. But then one day he just started skipping school and disappearing for days at a time. He gave his friends the cold shoulder and distanced himself completely. Thalia tried harder than anyone to hold on and help him. It didn't work.

"I don't know." Thalia shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway. He's—" Thalia made wiggling air quotation marks with her fingers. "'Going somewhere.'"

"Any idea where 'somewhere' might be?"

Thalia sighed, drained. "He wouldn't tell me, but I'm pretty sure he's not coming back."

I digested that information. It sounded way too final to be an eighteen-year-old's decision. I was seventeen, and I still had trouble with the _soup or salad_ thing.

"Do you think he's, like, on drugs or something?" I asked.

"I don't think so." Thalia winced mildly at the thought. "Even if he was, he wouldn't be acting _this_ weird." She decided.

"Maybe he's in trouble," I pointed out the obvious.

"Well, _duh_, he's in trouble!" Thalia snapped. "I couldn't have figured that one out on my own."

"I'm just trying to help," I defended.

"Then help _me_, Percy! I think Luke has made it very clear that he doesn't _want_ help!" she yelled.

If Thalia was crying before, she was positively sobbing now. She hunched over, resting her elbows on her knees. She was yanking her thick black hair by the roots, and breathing so heavily I thought she'd pass out. Finally, she collapsed on my shoulder and I hesitantly wrapped both arms around her.

"Percy," she breathed, voice cracking from desperation. "Tell me what to do!" she cried, finally broken. It didn't matter what other daring, insane stunts she'd pulled in her life. Nothing could have prepared her for falling in love.

Now I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty clueless when it comes to girls. I'd never actually fallen in love myself, either. But I did know about Thalia, and I knew what was really important to her. I was just afraid to talk about it.

When her sobs became less frantic, and she had stopped squeezing the life out of my right hand, I ventured into dangerous territory.

"Thalia?" I said, though my throat was dry. My face was burning up, and I was trying to look anywhere but at her. "Did you and Luke…" I just couldn't say it. I nervously meshed my fingers together so she got the idea.

Thalia didn't say anything right away. My heart tried hammering its way out of my chest. Good thing for ribs or I'd be in pretty bad shape right about now.

"No," she said finally. Suddenly the world seemed about ten times more manageable.

"Really?" I asked. This was, after all, _way_ to good to be true. Believe it or not, Thalia was actually a virgin. She was one of those girls who had a thing about falling in love, which was just further proof that she wasn't really a bad girl at heart. I mean, most of the really _good_ girls I knew weren't virgins, so Thalia being all glittery fairytale about it…well you get my point.

"Believe me—I wanted to," Thalia said slowly, sincerely.

I took an uncanny interest in picking at the dead skin of my thumb.

When she realized I wasn't going to respond, she continued. "I mean, he was being so distant…I just wanted him to know that I was there for him. That I loved him and…he could trust me."

My right thumb became so raw it started bleeding. I started on my left.

"But he wouldn't let me."

My eyes snapped to her face. I wasn't sure if she was serious, or if she was just trying to get me for being an awkward prick. She looked serious.

"What do you mean?" I said suspiciously.

"I _mean_ Luke wouldn't have sex with me," Thalia glared at me, completely serious and completely annoyed. At least she had stopped crying.

"_Why_?" I blurted, ignoring the awkwardness of the conversation for the sake of intense curiosity. I didn't think about it much, but when Thalia isn't trying to scare you, she's actually, well, _really_ _pretty_. My brain couldn't really fathom a good reason why Luke would turn her down.

"You men are all the same, aren't you?" Thalia accused. "Have you ever thought that maybe some guys think a little deeper than just 'getting some'?"

Alright I'll admit—that really hurt my ego. It wasn't necessarily because I was that heartless about it, but rather that I assumed Luke would be. But if Luke really felt that way—if he was really that good a guy—why would he break Thalia's heart without looking back?

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just glad that, you know, you're okay." I said.

Thalia still looked hurt, but I could tell it wasn't from anything I said. She smirked, and for a second I could see a glimmer of the old Thalia. I knew she'd be okay in time.

"And?" Thalia demanded more of an apology. She'd definitely be okay.

"And…I respect you, and women, and their feelings…" I said systematically.

Thalia looked up at me with wide eyes over the bridge of her nose. She reminded me of a librarian that used to hate me, only she was about a hundred years old and had purple speckled bifocals.

"And I—like the rest of the male population— am a jackass."

Thalia smiled sweetly, obviously satisfied. I totally deserved, like, a cookie or a gold star or something.

"So you mind if I crash here tonight?" she said as she lay back on the cushions. I figured she had about as much sobbing and awkward conversation as she could handle. I definitely had. Either way, I didn't want her to be alone tonight.

"Go ahead and take my bed. I'm cool with the couch."

"You don't have to do that, Percy." Thalia rolled her eyes, but I could tell she secretly liked the idea. "It's your apartment."

"No, no. I was gonna watch more Lifetime anyway."

She smiled.

* * *

**A/N: I probably won't be able to update until next weekend b/c I have midterms next week. Plus I still have a few college apps to get in, detentions to serve, and cheerleading practice. Yeah my life sucks... I also hurt my pinky finger and I have a competition the day the LT hits theaters. So really, you should pity me.**

**Review if you liked it, or hated it, or just need to talk about your feelings.**

**Oh and question! If I replace a chapter, do you guys get pestered with emails about it? AKA have you been pestered with emails? B/C I have OCD and replace chapters to fix small errors all the time, so if this has been bothering you please tell me so I can stop.**

**Thanks for Reading!**

**-Tetra**


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